Page 88 of More Tricks

Now all I saw was one of the men who had fought their way into my heart, never letting me push them away. Fighting to be with me for God knows what reason, but it worked, and I was finally ready to give in. I would surrender to this man who saw into the depths of my soul, deep enough to find a sliver of that girl even I didn’t know remained.

Pulling back from his kiss, I met his gaze and spoke from the heart just like he pleaded I would. “I love you, Picasso. We might fight and disagree on the ways of the world, but you also challenge me to see more than what’s in front of me.”

“God, I fucking love your crazy stubborn ass too,” Picasso answered as his hands slipped up my ribs, bunching my shirt up until he yanked it over my head. He looked down at my bare upper body and smiled as love and lust swirled in his eyes. “Looks like I got you in my bed just how I wanted you. What did you say back at the ranch?” He paused to kiss up my stomach until he got to my breasts.

“Try,” he said, swirling his tongue around my nipple, holding my gaze, then moved to the other side.

“Try.” His lips latched onto the other nipple, still tender from Cognac’s attention to it last night, as his hand slipped into my boxers and flicked my clit.

“Try, again,” he finished as he slid a finger inside me.

The groan that burst from my mouth echoed off the ceiling, reverberating through the converted garage. My back arched, begging for him to touch me more.

“Just so you know what's coming, I plan to take my time with you. This isn’t going to be a quick, meaningless fuck, spitfire. I’m going to make love to you until your body never forgets the reward for letting down your walls,” Picasso murmured along my skin, making me shiver.

His words made my body burn with desire, knowing that he would make good on his words. Each of my men pleasured my body in different ways. Some wanted to rule it, torture it drawing out to the finish, while others knew I could take a pounding. It would only make sense that my rose-colored-glasses-wearing Picasso would need to make my heart surrender to him as he explored every inch of my body.

Sitting back, he pulled off the boxers and tossed them over the railing to the garage floor. Now I was stripped, body and soul, for the taking. His hands started at my ankles, letting them skim up my legs, then back down again in a rhythmic motion kneading my muscles. Closing my eyes, I let him do as he pleased, trusting he would do right by me. Picasso’s hand moved up to my knees and pushed outward, spreading me open to him. Then the touch of his lips as he kissed my inner thigh right to where my leg joined my torso had me moaning until he stopped.

A whimper escaped me when he started up the next leg, stopping once more at the crease. This time, he brought his lips to the top of my mound, hands brushing along the sides of my pussy, but not touching where I wanted most. His kisses moved up my stomach, between my breasts to the base of my throat. The feel of his palms skimming over my ribs until they grasped my breasts made me suck in a sharp breath.

“Tell me what you feel, spitfire,” Picasso instructed. “I want to know all the thoughts that are running through your head.”

I gulped and tried to find the words for what I was feeling. “My body is hot. It feels like my skin is on fire, begging for you to touch me more. I can feel how wet I’m getting and the desperate need for you to touch my clit, to fuck me.” I opened my eyes and looked at him, watching my lips. “Goddammit, I want you inside me so badly it's hard not to take control.”

Picasso hummed in enjoyment as he kissed up my neck to my ear. “You try to take over, you're not going to get any of those things. This is your punishment for making plans behind our back, treating your life with disregard, and making me worry more about you as I sat in that hospital than my own brother.”

This was the side of Picasso I knew lived just under the surface. The part of himself that he was afraid of but came out when his brother was threatened, disrespected, or in danger. I, myself, had been on the receiving end of it a few times in the early days. Picasso had his own monster lurking in the depths, but he’d spend his whole life trying to hide it.

“I will accept my punishment,” I whispered as he sucked on my earlobe, then moved back down my neck rolling my nipples between his fingers.

“Look who can be a good girl,” he teased as he retreated back down between my legs. “Let’s see if you taste as good as I remember.”

He spread me open and laid his tongue flat, licking me from ass to clit, making me scream at the overwhelming sensations that roared through my body. I’d been so primed and ready to go from his touches that with a simple lick, I was blessed with my first orgasm of many, I hoped. “Holy fuck, you better not stop at just that.”

“What did I say about this being quick? I might love you, but I’m not that selfless to pass on getting my own release. Filling you up with my cum, marking my territory, because I’m the one in charge this morning,” Picasso reminded, his hot breath teasing my needy cunt.

My hips undulated as if begging him to touch me once more. That one single lick wasn’t enough to satisfy the fire he’d built up in me. His beard tickled my flesh, driving me crazy as I knew how close he was but kept from doing more than teasing me. Then a finger slowly glided through my wetness and circled my opening but hardly applied any pressure. Picasso was truly planning on making this a punishment of the best kind I wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

He slid a single finger inside me, and he curled it up and down right where my G-spot was. My back arched as I felt another orgasm being teased out of me slowly then when my walls started to clamp down on him, he pulled his finger out. Instead, he trailed it down to my asshole and started to massage his slick finger around the entrance.

“You enjoy your tight little hole being fucked, don’t you? Which do you like more, pussy or ass?” Picasso mused as he pushed the finger in just enough to get past the tight ring, working it and encouraging it to relax for him. “I think from what I’ve heard, you might like anal better than normal fucking. What do you think? Should I take you in the ass this morning?”

“Are you really giving me the choice?” I rebutted, knowing he was enjoying being in control for once.

Picasso flashed me a smile that told me all I needed to know. “I suppose not, but I guess I was curious as to what your answer would be.”

“My answer is take me however you want me. I will enjoy every second of it either way,” I said, running my hand through his hair and out of his face. “Do with me what you want. I’ll be able to handle it, don't you worry.”

Picasso caught my hand and kissed the palm of it, then let it go, scooped up my legs and bent me in half so my ass was up in the air, feet over my head. His tongue ran over my asshole, making sure it was good and wet as he ate my ass out. It was as if he was determined to get me to loosen up for him as fast as possible with talent and technique I’d never experienced before. Never did I think feeling the rough sensation of a beard swirling over my hole would feel so good.

Then he made sure to get me nice and wet with his spit before he reintroduced his finger, pushing it in further. Picasso took his time working it in and out, swirling and stretching until he could add a second finger. I loved the way my body felt when people fucked my ass. There was this innate urge to push it out, but when you relaxed into it, there were sensations that would blow your mind. Never did I think my ass could have so much feeling to it, but hot damn, people were missing out when they ignored this forbidden pleasure.

“I think you’re ready,” Picasso announced as he rolled off the bed and pulled open a drawer, grabbing a bottle of lube. “While spit might work, it can only get you so far, and I plan on owning that ass of yours for a good long while. Now flip over and stick that ass up in the air.”

Without hesitation, I did as he directed, wiggling my ass in excitement as I felt the shock of cold lube hitting my skin. He used those two fingers again to make sure I was as wet as a slip n’ slide before the blunt head of his cock pressed at the entrance. Letting my mind go blank, I relaxed my whole body, leaning into the pressure welcoming him inside me.

God, I wanted to be fucked so bad, for him to just slam into me, but he was the one running the show.